


I'd Never Want Once From The Cherry Tree

by friendlypotato



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Cam Boy Tom, Fluff and Smut, Librarian Will, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Praise Kink, im really sorry, it has a plot but it was solely deviced for smut purposes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24001183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlypotato/pseuds/friendlypotato
Summary: Will is just browsing some porn when he finds a familiar face.Or; Tom is a cam boy and Will depletes his wallet to get off to Tom's porn. Which would be relatively fine, if he didn't keep running into him in real life too.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 17
Kudos: 84





	I'd Never Want Once From The Cherry Tree

**Author's Note:**

> the idea for this AU was born from lex's brilliant mind, and this fic is dedicated to her. if for some godforsaken reason you haven't read all of her 1917 fics, head over to [her page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cunninglinguist/pseuds/Cunninglinguist/works?fandom_id=38280694)!
> 
> furthermore, this is for the dark 2nd devons; your support, love, and brilliant ideas are the only reason this exists. I love you all so, so much.
> 
> title is from hozier's work song.
> 
> i hope you enjoy this self-indulgent mess!

The second time Will saw Tom Blake was in such a wildly different setting than the first, that he wouldn’t have even realised it was him at all if the striking blue of the boy’s eyes hadn’t been burned into his memory.

That first time, Will had been in a university building, three years after his own graduation. He hadn’t come to this part of the campus before though, even when he was a student himself.

He was there as a favour to a mate and to earn a couple of extra bucks. Ellis worked at the uni as an art teacher, and when one night at the pub he’d asked him if he could fill in for the nude model in the figure sketching class that Thursday, Will had said yes. 

He might have been a bit tipsy at the time. It’s not the sort of thing he usually does. His own job as a librarian seldomly requires nudity, and at work as well as at home he tends to surround himself with books rather than people.

Anyway, that’s how he ends up sitting on a tall stool, completely naked, surrounded by attentive eyes and the smell of graphite and fresh paper. 

It’s easier than he had expected it to be, in the end. He isn’t a self-conscious man per se, but he anticipated awkwardness nonetheless. He’d brought a book actually, hoping to avoid making awkward small talk by hiding between the pages of a ratty paperback copy of Hamlet before he’d have to get naked. 

However, the students are all really friendly, quickly putting him at ease with some joking back and forth. And the staring is really not so disconcerting in a completely desexualised environment; everyone is much too occupied by getting shading right and finishing the sketch before he switches poses.

Keeping a pose for fifteen minutes is the hardest part, but Will has always been comfortable with his own thoughts, and the experience is altogether quite meditative.

Afterwards, he puts on a bathrobe, and stretches his arms as the students put some finishing touches to their work. He walks around the room, pausing every now and then to look at the sketches. It’s strange to see himself through others’ eyes like this. The sketches vary greatly, it’s almost difficult to believe the same subject inspired them.

Some had chosen to focus on a specific stretch of skin, shadows filling the sheet in a nearly abstract fashion. Others had captured his pose perfectly, staying true to the anatomical. He recognises himself in the sprawl of his long legs and the straightness of his back.

Parts of him are spread out across the room, all somewhat foreign to him. It’s like looking at an ancient Greek statue displaying an emotion that can still be felt today.

And then, he stares straight into his own soul. The centre of this drawing is his eyes, looking back at him steadily. The rest of him is there on the paper too, the curve of his jaw, the lines of his collar bones, even the veins of his arms, but somehow also the metaphysical is captured. Some inherent truth of him has been revealed, and Will feels painfully, deliciously, devastatingly seen.

“Hi,” he hears from beside him, and he’d been so lost in his thoughts he jumps a little.

The boy there must be the artist. He’s only about three years younger than Will, twenty years old or so. There’s an angelic quality to him, dark brown curls reaching just past his ears, a fetching blush colouring his cheeks and a joyful shine in his wide blue eyes.

“Your drawing,” stammers Will. “It’s really good.”

The boy breaks into a pleased grin.

“Thanks!” He says, “and thank you for sitting for us!”

“Oh, yeah uh, my pleasure,” Will smiles, and moves on.

And that was that, he’d thought, though both the sketch and the boy’s beautiful eyes are stuck in his mind for days.

* * *

That is, until three weeks later: the second time he sees Tom Blake. 

It’s a peaceful Sunday afternoon and, there’s no polite way of saying this, he’s just about to have a wank. 

He’s browsing his favourite porn site: nothing fancy, just a site with mainly live streams that you can watch if you pay the streamer a monthly fee. Will isn’t ashamed to say cam boys are his favourite source of porn; he just likes to see people enjoying themselves, nothing wrong with that. 

The page he’s currently scrolling through is a page of introduction videos. Every streamer has a free video uploaded, which you can watch, and if you like what you see you can pay for the membership for the streams. Some streamers also have pre-recorded videos uploaded that you can buy. 

Anyway, it’s on a page of these free videos that Will stumbles across a familiar set of bright blue eyes.

He has to do a double-take, but sure enough, that’s the boy he met at the uni just weeks ago. Will considers just scrolling, but he’s always been too curious for his own good, and besides, there’s nothing exactly _wrong_ with it, is there? It’s not like he actually knows the boy. He just wouldn’t touch himself, then it would be totally okay, he reasons. He’d just look out of curiosity.

He clicks on the username, “@cherryblossom_”, to open the profile. The boy, Tom, as the profile tells him, has about twenty purchasable videos uploaded, and does a live stream twice a week. The thumbnails alone are enough to get his cock interested in the events. God, this is very likely to be a really terrible idea.

Will sighs deeply, carding his fingers through his hair. Then he makes up his mind, and clicks on the introduction video.

It starts with the camera focused on the boy- Tom- sitting in the middle of a large bed, three big white pillows resting against the headboard, and a vibrator and a small tube of lube sitting next to him. He’s wearing a slightly oversized hoodie and underwear, nothing else, and his dark curls frame his face neatly.

Tom looks up at the camera, which appears to be positioned on a stand in front of the bed, and he smiles a shy smile, nothing like the grin Will saw.

Then he scoots back on the bed, and leans back against the headboard, letting his knees fall open a bit. He lets a palm fall to the inside of a thigh, and gently strokes the skin there. A soft sigh falls from his lips, as his hand ghosts over the bulge in his pants, continuing its exploration just under the hem of the hoodie.

He slips the hoodie off, revealing his trim body, with some baby fat still lingering at the softest part of his belly. It’s cute, and it turns Will on more than he cares to admit. Tom softly rubs a nipple, and his full lips form a little ‘o’. 

His other hand drifts towards his still clothed cock. His eyes fall shut as he strokes the bulge, still rubbing his nipple with the other hand. It doesn’t take long before he’s moaning softly, and the sounds go straight to Will’s gut, fuelling a heat building there. 

Then Tom stops, a small wet spot visible in his boxers. He takes the underwear off, discarding it to the side of the bed, and picks up the tube of lube. He coats two of his fingers in it, sets the tube to the side, and settles back against the pillows. Will can’t take his eyes off of him, completely entranced by the beautiful boy.

He sets his feet on the bed, spreading his legs wide, and then he presses his index finger to the tight ring of muscle between his legs. His breathing stutters when he slowly pushes the finger into his hole. 

Will’s own breathing stutters too; saliva floods his mouth, and he has to swallow thickly.

Tom takes a moment to adjust, using the other hand to stroke his belly, his side, rubbing a nipple, but staying clear of his cock, which is hard and furiously red, a bead of precome at the tip. His eyes are glazed over and he looks down at the camera, smirking somewhat dazedly.

Then, he withdraws his finger halfway, and pushes back in, fucking himself lazily. He seems to have found his prostate then, his eyes clear up and a stuttering moan spills from his lips. He continues with a little more urgency. He pushes his middle finger in beside the other and starts a slow pace, spreading his fingers a bit on every third stroke. Soon he is panting, and a warm flush has taken control of his face.

He is the most beautiful thing Will has ever seen. His own erection is straining against his boxers, and he presses his palm against it in an attempt to relieve some of the tension, but that backfires, because the friction immediately has him right on the fucking edge.

Tom withdraws his fingers and fetches the vibrator. It’s only about five inches, and it slides into his slick, loose hole easily. He uses it to fuck himself at a steady pace, withdrawing slowly before slamming it back home over and over again.

Will is transfixed by the easy slide, in and out, and he can’t stop his treacherous brain from imagining it’s his own cock filling Tom, and how pretty the boy would look all wrapped around him.

Tom is moaning on every thrust now, he’s starting to look utterly debauched: mouth slack, eyes scrunched up tight. Then he stops thrusting, and turns on the vibrator. A full-body shiver passes through him and a sharp grunt comes from deep within his chest. He uses one hand to rub a nipple while he slides the other into the thick dark hair curling at the nape of his neck. 

Within seconds his moans turn breathy and loud, needy whimpers interspersing them. The sight is straight-up sinful, and Will can’t help but palm his leaking cock through his boxers.

Tom tugs at his hair once, hard, and then he’s coming all over himself. Once he has ridden out his high, he looks back at the camera, and smirks, looking fucked out and sated. That’s all it takes for Will to come in his pants like a fucking teenager.

Well. So much for just curiosity. 

Will can already tell those images are etched into his mind permanently. Seeing this boy, with whom he’d felt such an intimate, emotional connection that day at the uni, like this, beautiful, living, utterly enchanting, has Will feeling things he doesn’t care to examine more closely.

Without giving himself time for self-reflection, Will buys the next video. And it’s nobody’s business but his own, (and Tom’s, quite literally,) if after that he subscribes for the live streams too.

It’s not like he’ll ever see the bloke again, in real life that is, so really, there’s no trouble in it if he spends a little too much time in his room with his dick out over the next couple of days.

* * *

All of this makes it quite understandable that when Tom shows up at the library only five days later, just about half a cup of coffee finds its way to his lungs, in his humble opinion. He’s sitting behind his desk, just doing some filing, when he sees the boy wander into the building, only 10 feet away from him.

“Tom?” he says, once the coughing’s finally stopped.

Tom’s head whips up to face him. When he recognises Will, he grows wide-eyed, and only then does Will remember how he actually learned his name. Oh god, he’s such an idiot. Tom wanders over to his desk.

“How do you know my name, then?” smirks Tom. Will starts mentally kicking the shit out of himself.

“Uh, I asked Ellis, your teacher, because I liked your drawing so much.” There. That’s a reasonable explanation, isn’t it? He’s quite proud of his quick thinking actually. Tom quirks his slitted eyebrow, and Will genuinely cannot tell whether he bought it or not.

The other shrugs and offers him his hand. “Alright. Thomas Blake. But yeah, call me Tom.”

Will shakes it. “Will,” he adds, “William Schofield.” He desperately tries not to think of what those hands had been up to in the video he’d watched that very same morning.

“So, you work here then? I was hoping to find some Shakespeare, wanna brush up on the ol’ tragedies.”

“Yes, sure thing!” Will gets up on wobbly feet and walks around his desk to guide him to the correct section.

“So, you really liked my drawing then, did you?” Tom asks. Will exhales in relief. That’s an easy topic.

“Yeah, yes I did,” he says genuinely. “You captured something about me none of the others did, something I maybe hadn’t even known about myself before.”

Tom beams up at him. Will blushes, and turns into the aisle where Shakespeare should be. He finds the books quickly, and pulls out a copy of the collected tragedies. He hands it to Tom without meeting his eyes.

“Thanks!” Tom says. “And, for the record, the drawing was only any good because I had such an interesting subject to look at.”

Will looks up into his eyes then, and Tom fucking _winks_. He turns around and walks off to checkout.

Will starts to walk back to his desk, thoughts racing through his mind. When he reaches his desk and turns back around, Tom is already gone.

* * *

That evening, Will gets an email to notify him that ‘@cherryblossom_’ is about to start a live stream. Immediately, he feels his heartbeat speed up. He breathes deeply, feeling like all of a sudden there’s not enough air in the room.

He considers not watching it, he really does, but something keeps pulling him towards it, something more than just instant sexual gratification, and since he’s in the privacy of his own home, there’s no one to judge him for his poor choices but him. He clicks the link.

The live stream begins. The camera is focused on Tom on the bed, and a shiver of excitement runs through Will at the mere idea that at this very moment, Tom is in his bedroom somewhere, doing precisely this.

Tom is wearing simple white y-fronts and a short silk robe, and it should probably look a bit silly, but God, if it’s not the sexiest thing Will has ever seen. Tom shifts back until he’s sitting up against the headboard. Next to him, there’s a dildo and an iPad. Warm tingles swoop through Will’s gut, a hot mixture of nerves and anticipation.

Once he’s settled, he looks up to face the camera. His wide blue eyes spark with something like mischief, a stark juxtaposition to the innocent, angelic look those very same eyes have thrown at Will before. He unties the belt of the robe, and the silk falls open, exposing his rosy chest and the soft skin of his stomach.

He runs his hand over his sides, his belly, his chest, gently brushing over his nipples, and the soft pink flush in his cheeks starts to darken, spreading out over his chest.

At this point, it’s nearly enough to drive Will insane. While usually not gifted with the most detailed imagination- his thoughts tend to race too much for his brain to get past vague concepts- his mind turns out to have no problem providing vivid images of how Tom’s skin would flush beneath Will’s lips. 

He can almost feel the heat of flesh on his lips, can feel the faint tremor that would run through Tom under his fingertips. He imagines the heat radiating off of the boy would warm him as he touches him just like he’s touching himself now; tender, an exploration, imagines what those sweet little sounds he makes would sound like right into his ear.

A light gasp comes from the boy, and Will is overcome with desire. That is the exact moment Tom decides to talk.

“I’m gonna be good for you, would you like that?”

Will almost chokes on his own spit. He hadn’t been prepared for that in _any_ way shape or form, and his cock twitches in his boxers. Tom continues relentlessly.

“I’m gonna touch myself just for you and I won’t come until you tell me to.” And with that, he grinds the flat of his palm into his clothed erection.

Will thanks the Lord no one was around to hear the whimper he can’t hold back.

Then, he sees something on the page he hadn’t noticed before: a chat window. That’s when he realises what the iPad was for. He swallows thickly, and clicks the chat prompt. An online payment screen pops up. 

He combs his fingers through his hair. Is he seriously going to spend even more money, just to chat dirty to some boy while he pleasures himself in front of a live audience? He sighs. The answer was never going to be ‘no’.

He pays, and that’s that. He now has an open line of communication to the boy on the other side of the screen. His heart is pounding in his chest.

Tom, in the meantime, is grinding into his palm enthusiastically, his cock straining against his pants.

“Feels so good,” he gasps. “Could come just from this, dry humping like a teenager. Are you gonna let me come from this?” With those last words, he looks straight at the camera, straight at Will. There’s a clear challenge in his eyes. Will makes his decision and types a message.

@yourphilosophy: _You say you'll be good for me, but really all I see is you being an impatient, cheeky little brat. Now be a good boy and make yourself wait._

Will supposes it's a bit out of place between all the 'your so sexy baby's. He doesn't allow himself to think it through, and clicks 'send', his heart in his throat.

The moment Tom has read the message is clearly visible. His eyes fly to the camera, and he freezes, ceasing his rutting, his hips only stuttering forward twice more, shock clear on his face. Will's blood freezes– he's fucked up, he's already fucked it up- but then he realises the sound that's coming from Tom is a quiet whimper. Oh.

Tom is still stilled, looking _straight at him_ , and whispers, “okay then, I’ll be good for you.”

It’s intimate, unbearably so. Will’s ears are burning, and it’s honestly a miracle there’s still blood in his body available for anything other than his cock. He cannot back down now.

@yourphilosophy: _I knew you would be, baby, go on, touch yourself for me._

Tom releases a shaky breath, a dark blush high on his cheekbones. Then he slips out of his underwear. His cock arches up proudly to his stomach, the head a furious red, a small bead of precome already at the tip. He wraps his hand around the shaft, using his thumb to spread the fluid over the head.

He starts a slow pace, tracing the thick vein with a firm thumb, stroking himself gently. His eyes flutter shut, as Will’s gaze tracks even the smallest movement, completely unable to look away. It doesn’t take long before he’s worked himself up to the edge again, a fine sheen of sweat on his upper lip. His pace has sped up, and his grip has grown firmer.

“Is this good? Are you gonna let me come like this?” He pants. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

The challenge has almost fully disappeared from his tone; what remains is soft and sweet with just a hint of desperation. It’s easy for Will to imagine he is the one responsible for the change. That thought gives him a heady rush of power, and a desperate longing to take care of this boy the way he deserves. His hands fly over the keyboard.

@yourphilosophy: _You look gorgeous like this baby, but you’re not quite there yet, are you? You don’t want to come yet, you want a nice, thick cock inside you, come on, be good for me, hold off for a bit longer and show us what you look like all filled up._

It’s a veritable essay, but Will sends it before he can change his mind. Tom doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seems to like it quite a bit. His lips form a perfect pink ‘o’ as he squeezes the base of his cock hard to keep himself from reaching his orgasm.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to cool himself down a little.

Will’s own arousal strains painfully against his boxers, so he takes them off. Precome drips from the head of his cock to his stomach, and he’s quite glad there’s no one there to see him get so worked up so quickly.

Tom, in the meantime, has put two fingers in his mouth, sucking at them with abandon, a sight that’s doing horrible things to Will’s mental coherency. His cock throbs. He really isn’t in a position to be complaining.

Once Tom is satisfied with how he’s coated his fingers in spit, he withdraws them from his mouth and opens his legs as far as they will go, presenting himself to the camera. He rubs at his entrance with his index finger, until the muscle relaxes just a bit. 

Then, when the tight ring is slick and loose enough, Tom looks at the camera from under heavy eyelids. He lifts one corner of his mouth, as he stares straight into Will’s eyes. Will’s pulse picks up in anticipation. Then, Tom pushes both fingers into his hole at once. 

He groans lightly at the stretch, which only just borders on pain, but he doesn’t give himself much time to relax, immediately starting to finger himself almost harshly. Will immediately starts to type.

@yourphilosophy: _Oh, you’re positively gagging for it, aren’t you? Come on, take it slow for me, let me hear those pretty noises you make._

The chat is buzzing with people telling the boy to speed up, but in much, much more vulgar words. Will wrinkles his nose in distaste. He really doesn’t expect Tom to keep noticing his messages among all the others; Tom, however, clearly does. A low whine escapes his throat, and his lashes flutter involuntarily, he slows his pace, opening himself up with deep strokes.

Then, he finds just the right angle, and hits that spot deep inside of him. A moan spills from him that breaks off into loud gasps as he continues to rub his prostate, consumed by his pleasure. Will, unable to resist for any longer, starts stroking himself with his left hand, and it instantly has him curl his toes as arousal sweeps through him. He types another message with his free hand.

@yourphilosophy: _So good baby, getting yourself all nice, slick, and ready. Driving me insane, looking so beautiful._

Tom groans, and withdraws his fingers.

“I’ll show you pretty then, shall I?” He grabs the dildo from beside him, coats it in a thin layer of lube, and works it into his loosened hole, arching his back in a decidedly wanton manner. Will can’t help but let himself imagine that that display is a little bit for him and him alone.

Once Tom has gotten the dildo all the way in, he stills, letting himself adjust to the length of it. He rubs his erection languidly, no urgency behind it, though his cock is leaking precome, and his flush has taken over all of his skin.

It makes him look oddly innocent for the situation, like a virginal blushing bride, or like one of Michelangelo’s angels, a show of piety and youthful beauty, and Will _wants_ : wants desperately to worship him, to feel him, to be the cause of those moans and whimpers, to hear his name from his lips as he comes.

Boldened by the anonymity of the chat and his judgement compromised by his overwhelming arousal, he types yet another message.

@yourphilosophy: _Look at you, beautiful, I can’t even imagine how pretty you’d look wrapped around my cock as I fuck you._

Tom smirks at the camera lazily, and lets his hand fall down to the hilt of the dildo. He pulls it about halfway out, before pushing it back inside. Then he withdraws it a bit further, and slams it back inside. He breathes out deeply, a sound that ends in a shaky whimper On the third stroke, the dildo brushes his prostate, and a loud moan comes from deep within his chest.

He starts fucking himself deep, not too fast, careful not to push himself over the edge too quickly. Soon, his pace speeds up though, as his moans take on a frantic edge.

“Please… I’m gonna come, please can I come now? I’m so close, oh god-” a whine escapes him. Will thinks he might actually pass out.

@yourphilosophy: _Finally properly begging. Such a good boy, hold on just a little longer for me, you’re so sweet like this, on the edge of pleasure._

Tom whimpers, slowing his thrusting, and biting into his free hand hard to keep himself from coming. Will himself is so close, so very close, he isn’t even touching himself anymore for fear of coming before Tom and missing even half a second of this.

Tom is slowly picking back up his pace. It only takes a few thrusts before he’s close again, whimpering softly, overly sensitive from being so near orgasm for such a long time. He arches his back into the movement, trying to fuck himself back onto the dildo, and it’s a sloppy mess. 

His curls cling to his sweaty forehead and his cock is slick with precome, as broken moans make way for a litany of whispered pleas. His heavy-lidded eyes have a feverish shine as he focuses intently on the iPad.

Will wants to hand him the fucking moon. He types as fast as he can with his left hand.

@yourphilosophy: _Come for me, my beautiful boy._

Tom slows his movements, and then he’s coming hard, thick white ribbons painting his stomach as he throws his head back with a silent shout. One more stroke of Will’s hand and he’s coming too, harder than he’s come in ages, all his muscles tensing up as waves of pleasure hit him.

Once he fully comes back to himself, black spots still crowding his vision, a little voice in the back of his hazy mind insists Tom’s shout was shaped like ‘Will’. He chalks up to an overactive imagination in the heat of the moment and scoffs at himself.

Tom is leaning towards the camera to turn it off, an almost bashful smile on his face. Will sighs. God, he’s in way over his head with this.

He feels dangerously close to having feelings for this boy, which is just ridiculous- he’s only spoken so many words to him in real life, and the boy on the screen doesn’t even know he’s there. This is just a stupid, stupid crush, and even if he’d had a chance with Tom, he’d now permanently ruined that chance by behaving like some fucking lech. 

He really is a pathetic fool.

* * *

He plops down on his best friend’s couch. It’s a Saturday afternoon and he has no plans other than watching whatever Lauri is currently obsessed with and working his way through two or three servings of whisky. (Or three. Or four.)

Lauri is just coming out of the kitchen brandishing two mugs and a bottle of Laphroaig, and Will could honestly kiss her. It probably shows, too, because Lauri smiles and ruffles his hair after setting the drink on the coffee table. Then she sits down next to him and folds her legs underneath herself. 

She reaches over, and scratches the giant red cat nestled into Will’s lap behind its ears. “Bonjour ma petite!” Lauri coos. The cat starts to purr loudly.

Will tries to suppress a laugh (the cat really must weigh about 9 kilo’s), happy to just bask in the domesticity and familiarity. Lauri hears it anyway, and pokes him in the ribs, continuing to address the cat, like he’s not even there.

“Ne l’écoute pas, ma belle, tu est mon petit, joli bébé!”

Will laughs out loud this time. “Hey, I never said she wasn’t pretty! Just that she’s about the size of a small calf!”

Now Lauri is laughing too, and pushes him gently. Will is almost bursting with love for her.

They’d tried to date once, back when they’d been in uni, trying out new things and trying to run from other things. The reason it hadn’t worked wasn’t just a sexuality thing, both of them would probably say they’re bi when asked, though Lauri isn’t planning on dating men again any time soon, as she’s proclaimed dramatically on many occasions.

Honestly, Will had proclaimed much the same not all that long ago, and he feels like his current predicament only proves that it would’ve been a good idea to stick with that. Not that he’s dating Tom, oh God, and isn’t that the real problem here?

Anyway, Lauri and he had gone on an entirety of one whole date, before deciding they were probably just destined to be mates. At the time, the fact that Lauri had been desperately in love with Marion from pottery class, and just as desperately had been trying to avoid those feelings, had played a big part in that decision.

Most of the dinner had been Will listening to Lauri gush about her, and the rest had been Will trying to console her as she cried about her sexual identity crisis. Ultimately, Lauri quickly became like a sister to him, and that date was only mentioned in hysteric fits of drunken giggling.

Will is transported back to reality when Lauri turns on the telly and Grey’s Anatomy starts to play. He pours himself some whisky and settles in to watch.

For some reason, he can’t focus on the show. His attention keeps drifting back to a blue-eyed boy grinning at him in a library, or smiling up at a camera, or rapt in the throes of pleasure, and he finds himself staring into the distance rather than even in the general direction of the TV, fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

One episode and a mug of whisky in, Lauri turns to him.

“Something’s on your mind, you can barely sit still. Come on, talk to me about it.”

Will blinks, and then sighs. He should’ve known Lauri would be able to see right through him, and honestly, maybe he would feel better after talking about it, but he’s just sort of… ashamed. He looks up to find Lauri looking at him expectantly. He sighs once again.

“So… there’s a boy,” he grits out.

Lauri breaks into a huge grin. “Oh, is there now?”

Will rubs a hand over his face, grimacing. “Yes. But it’s not like that, exactly.”

Lauri grabs the remote and turns off the telly, turning her attention towards Will completely. He rolls his eyes, but internally he’s more than a little grateful.

“Yeah, so I met him when I was nude modelli-”

“WHEN YOU WHAT?” Lauri screeches. Oh, right, he may have neglected to tell her that little tidbit at the time. He exhales deeply and starts to recount the events from the very beginning.

By the time he’s made it through the encounter at the library he would like to say Lauri is trying her damndest not to laugh, but really, she’s not trying all that hard.

“So, basically, you met a cute boy, who you since then have been paying good money to beat your meat to, and he doesn’t know, and you’re in love with him, and also you’re just about broke?”

Will shoots her a look. “It’s not all that funny you know,” he mutters.

Lauri sobers a bit. “Will. It’s not that big of a deal. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’ll probably never see him again, but even if you do, he may not even mind all that much. He’s an art student who works as a cam boy, chances are he has an open mind about these things.”

Will chuckles wetly, not sure when and why tears had welled up in his eyes.

Lauri looks at him intently, concern clear in her eyes, leans in and wraps her arms around him. Will releases a shuddery breath.

“You’re not a bad person for this Will, you didn’t do anything wrong, and I really don’t think Tom would mind, let alone hate you for this. If you see him again I think you should ask him out.”

Will huffs. “Thanks, but if I ever see him again I won’t be able to speak to him on account of having died of embarrassment,” he sniffs. Then he snorts. “It is a bit funny, isn’t it?”

Lauri giggles and bumps his shoulder with hers, then turns Grey’s Anatomy back on. Will coughs lightly. “So, give me a quick recap of what happened last episode?” Lauri scoffs and rolls her eyes at him, but launches straight into an enthusiastic in-depth analysis and recount of the events. 

They settle back into comfortable companionship as they stare intently at McDreamy’s hands doing something medically unlikely and inexplicably sexy. Will feels a little lighter than he’s felt in weeks.

* * *

Next time he runs into Tom it’s at the supermarket, of all places. He’s just getting his weekly groceries, carefully considering what brand of milk he ought to get.

It’s quite a challenge, because there’s like ten different brands in total, four of which claim to be biological. One of those has a picture of a cow on it that looks at the camera like it had a personal vendetta with the photographer, and Will gets a bit sad just looking at it. 

Another has some silly text on it stating that it ‘tastes good with cereal’, which really deters Will from wanting to support the brand. 

A third is a brand from some European country, and isn’t it unethical to buy things like milk from a different country? Something about supporting local farmers and not wasting plane fuel? On top of that, it’s called ‘Campina’, and he doesn’t know what that means but it _sounds_ like a homophobic slur.

He’s deeply consumed by this moral dilemma when he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He whips around, blinking as he adjusts to non-milk related thoughts. Then he realises who it is standing in front of him, and all thoughts of milk flee him at once.

“Tom! Um, hi!”

“Hey Will, how are ya?” the boy asks cheerfully.

Will, meanwhile, is trying very, very, very hard indeed to not think about the live stream he watched no more than two hours ago, which is quite the task when the boy who he had seen fucking himself on a dildo for 40 minutes straight was standing right in front of him.

“Uhh… yeah, great, thanks.” He manages to stutter. “What are you doing here?”

Tom grins at him disbelievingly, and Will can’t stop his eyes from falling to those plump lips, the very lips moans and pleas had spilt from not at all long enough ago. He’s shaken from his daze when the boy responds.

“Why, buying milk of course!”

Oh, right, yes, grocery store, of course. Will goes bright red.

“Right, well, of course! Nice to see you, Tom!” He grabs the first pack of milk his hands can find and all but runs towards check-out. It’s only when he’s home that he sees that what he got was, in fact, soy milk. Well, that wasn’t at all what he’d meant to buy. He buries his head in his hands. At least it’s biological.

* * *

Now the smart thing to do would’ve been to at least steer clear from the videos from now on, not in the least because his wallet was suffering, but mainly because the hole he’d dug for himself was already quite deep enough, thank you very much. 

But the thing is, Will is hooked. And he isn’t hurting anybody, except for maybe himself with all the excessive masturbation. So, even that very same evening, he settles in to watch one of the shorter videos.

The video starts, and Tom is sitting in the middle of the bed, legs folded in front of him. 

He’s wearing sheer thigh highs and suspenders, and a lacy little pair of panties that definitely wasn’t designed to accommodate a cock, and doesn’t do much for modesty. They’re made of a soft silk in a pinkish cherry colour that brings out the soft blush colouring his cheeks. He throws a secretive smile at the camera, and reaches behind him for one of the large pillows. Will swallows in anticipation. 

Tom sets the pillow next to him. He lets his legs fall open and settles his hands on the insides of his thighs, rubbing them lightly. The effect is instantaneous, his cock starts to fill and a blush colours his cheeks. He is so beautifully responsive, and his thighs must be so sensitive, Will goes half-mad just thinking about how he could drive the boy crazy just sucking bruises into the soft skin there for hours on end.

Tom firmly squeezes his thighs, hooks his fingers under the elastic bands of the suspenders and pulls, then lets them snap against the soft flesh; and a gasp falls from his soft pink lips. Then he turns, so his body is perpendicular to the camera, gets on hands and knees, and positions the pillow underneath his hips.

He grinds down experimentally, his cock straining against the tight confines of the silk panties. Once he’s found a good angle, he thrusts into the pillow a couple of times. 

Then he adjusts once again, turning back to face the camera, legs folded underneath himself, the pillow between them. He grinds down, and this time his eyes fly wide open and he looks straight into the camera as he moans. 

He picks up a slow pace, grinding deep into the pillow. He uses his hands to hold up the pillow to increase friction. It doesn’t take very long before the pace quickens, his movements growing frantic, humping the pillow like his life depends on it. Will’s cock twitches, a bead of pre-come forming at the tip.

A flush starts to spread across his chest as he moans breathlessly, and his movement becomes increasingly erratic. Will firmly strokes his cock, his mind easily supplying a scenario in which it is his cock Tom is riding wildly. 

Tom slides his free hand into his hair, tousling his neat curls, adding to his utterly dishevelled look. He tugs at his curls as he grinds down into the pillow deep and fast, and it only takes a couple more thrust before he comes hard. Will comes into his hand right with him. Tom keeps grinding throughout the orgasm, until he finally comes down from his high and sits back, looking tired and sated. 

Will yearns to kiss every inch of his rosy skin. The video stops, and Will is left there, alone in his darkened room. Something aches deep inside his chest, an emptiness and hunger in his gut that can’t seem to be sated.

Seeing Tom on the screen like that, it’s easy to imagine he’s there, that he’s just waiting to be permitted to touch him, that he’ll get to hold him afterwards; but when it’s over, the silence stands in such stark contrast that the ensuing loneliness is nearly completely overwhelming.

He closes his laptop with a sigh, and climbs into bed. It takes a long time before he falls asleep, and when he finally does, it’s restless, as he dreams of a boy behind a wall of glass.

* * *

“Will! Hi!”

Will whips his head up from his paperwork when he hears the familiar voice calling to him, just in time to see Tom half jogging half walking towards him, brandishing Shakespeare in front of him like it’s a longsword. Struck dumb, Will just stands there, gaping, until Tom reaches the desk, slightly out of breath.

“Hey! I’ve come to return the book!”

“Right, of course,” Will replies, wondering what got Tom all riled up. “Did you enjoy it?“

“Of course I did! Especially Hamlet, always has been my favourite.” He says it with a wide grin and that damned wink, which does exactly nothing to clear up Will’s confusion. Tom places the book on the desk.

“Look, I got to catch a bus, mate, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

That explains the hurry he’s in, at least. “Y-yeah,” stammers Will, struggling to keep track of the conversation.

Tom smiles, and turns to walk towards the exit. Then he seems to stop in his tracks as if he forgot something, and turns back to face Will. “Hey Will, do you wanna get a cup of coffee with me sometimes?”

Tom is clearly trying his very best to sound casual, but his voice goes just a bit too high pitched on the last word, and a very faint tremor in his hand betrays his nerves. 

Will, in the meantime, physically cannot form even a single thought. His heart starts pounding wildly, like it’s trying to escape his chest, so loud that surely Tom can hear it too. How is it possible that this is happening? Can he really be this lucky? Could this boy, this boy for whom he has turned into a lovesick fool, actually stand there, asking to see him again?

Oddly enough, it’s the fact that Tom is nervous too that sets Will at ease more than anything else. This is new for the both of them, he doesn’t have to know what to do.

“Yes, yeah alright,” Will breathes. Tom grins, a hint of relief visible in the way his shoulders relax just a bit.

“Cool! I’ll just put my number in your phone then, shall I?”

“Yes, of course.” Will pats his pockets until he spots his phone buried beneath the stacks of paper on the desk. Fumbling with it only a little, he hands over his phone.

Tom taps at his phone for a bit before handing it back. “Alright! I really do have to run, but text me, yeah?” He smiles brightly at Will, and all Will can do is smile back at him. Before he can think of anything to say, the boy is gone, as quickly as he came.

Will falls back into his desk chair heavily, thoughts racing, still dazed, a warm, fluttery feeling in his gut. He looks down at his phone at the new contact. Tom had entered his name, “Tom Blake”, and he’d added a cherry blossom emoji. 

Will’s heart stops beating for a good 20 seconds, and ice churns in his gut. What the fuck does that mean?

Could that mean Tom somehow knows? Was asking him out all some sort of joke to him? Was he trying to teach him a lesson of sorts? But Tom really doesn’t seem like the type to harbour such grudges, and to come up with this all too subtle revenge plot.

No, surely he wouldn’t have been so sweet, so cheerful and just a bit nervous if it had been that. And the other option- that he had known and still genuinely wanted to go out with him- is so wholly inconceivable that he has to dismiss it instantly. No, it’s probably just nothing, maybe the boy just really likes cherry blossoms, it doesn’t have to mean anything.

He decides it’s the only plausible explanation, and tries to put it out of his mind. The explanation isn’t quite satisfactory, and an uneasy feeling stays with him for long after the immediate panic has left.

It takes a tipsy phone call to Lauri for him to work up the courage to text him. Her input is mostly screeching, giggling at him and calling him a hopeless fool, but he feels better afterwards.

He sends a simple _’hey, it’s Will’_ , and it takes some self-control to calmly place the phone on the kitchen counter instead of throwing it across the room. He takes a deep breath.

By the grace of the gods, his phone buzzes only two minutes later. They text back and forth for a bit, and soon they settle on a time and place for tomorrow afternoon.

Will can barely sit still, brimming with nerves and excitement. He hasn’t really liked anyone quite this much before, which is a bit of a foolish and fanciful thought, especially since he’s hardly held a full conversation with the boy. Still, it goes so much further than physical attraction; ever since that afternoon in the dusty studio, there’d been something there, he’d felt some sort of connection.

Well anyway, now he just needs to find a way to tell Tom that he’s been paying his bills with money that Will gave him in return for sex work without Tom knowing. Preferably without sounding like some insane stalker or lech, and in a manner that won’t turn him off dating Will. Right.

* * *

Will feels like he might be sick when he walks into the coffee shop. Outside, in the cold morning air, his head had still been clear, he’d still felt confident, but now he’s once again absolutely certain there is no way this is going to end well.

He is going to tell Tom he’s seen the videos, before it’s too late. Tom is gonna look at him like he’s a dirty rat, which is just about what he feels like. Then he’s gonna get up, maybe throw his drink in his face, and that will be the last time he sees Thomas Blake. Nothing to be done about it now. 

Tom is already sitting at one of the tables. He looks ethereal as ever, a soft flush on his cheeks, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scribbles in a small sketchbook. Then he looks up, and when their eyes meet, Will’s stomach drops even further- it must now be about two feet underground- but he shakes himself out of it and smiles at the boy.

“Hey!” 

“Hi,” says Will. He drops into the chair opposite of Tom. A silence falls immediately, and Will is mentally beating the shit out of himself for not even managing to appear slightly normal for more than ten seconds. He sighs.

“Look, I have to tell you something.”

Tom looks up at him, an unreadable expression on his face. “Alright,”

“So I… I saw some videos you did, online. And like, I just want you to know, I suppose, that I didn’t mean for it to go this way. I haven’t been stalking you or anything, it all just happened really fast, and I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t want you to think I’m a creep, I really like you. I’m just so-” he cuts off abruptly when Tom puts a hand over his on the table. He lets out a shaky breath.

“I know,” Tom states simply.

“Yeah, but it’s just- wait, what?”

“I’ve known for quite a while, Will. Your username, ‘@yourphilosophy’? That’s Hamlet, isn’t it? That’s what you were reading when you came to model, so when it popped up it stood out to me. Then, when you already knew my name in the library, I knew for sure.”

Will has no clue what to say to that. “But… Shakespeare is famous. Could’ve been anyone, couldn’t it?”

Tom grins. “Not very sexy though, innit?”

Will bristles at that. “Actually, Shakespeare wrote many things that both for the time period and in the current day and age are quite rousing indeed. And while Hamlet may not be the most explicit play, the interaction between Hamlet and Horatio especially is charged with love, devotion and admiration that I’d argue is indeed quite ‘sexy’.”

Tom giggles. “Look mate, I’m not saying I don’t agree with that, quite the opposite actually, but it’s not the sort of thing the main crowd that follows me is thinking about, y’know? There is a reason there’s no videos of me in a codpiece and a cravat.”

Will prays that his pupils don’t visibly dilate at that.

“Anyway, as I was saying, you seemed like the type of bloke to quote Shakespeare in this situation. Which is a good thing!” he hurries to add.

Will blushes. “So don’t you mind? Don’t you think I’m some awful creep?”

Tom smiles gently. “I don’t mind. You appreciate what I create, and I really like that. Many people would ask me to stop if they knew, and many who do know wouldn’t be interested in me as a person, beyond what’s on screen. I’m not scared of either of that with you.”

So much weight drops from Will’s shoulders at once that he feels like he might float away. “I can hardly believe it. God, I’ve been so worried,” he mutters to himself, out loud, his voice faint in his own ears.

Tom smirks. “Well, there are more things between heaven and earth, Horatio-”

“Oh shut up,” Will chuckles, face burning. He clears his throat. “So, what happens now?”

“Well, now you order me a soy chai latte, and you can tell me all about how sexy Hamlet is, and then after that I’m hoping you’ll ask me back to your place!” Tom quips.

Will grins at him, and Tom grins back- they’re sitting there smiling at each other like a couple of idiots, and Will feels like if the world ended right here, right now, he’d die happy.

* * *

Finally, finally, Will, has Thomas Blake all to himself. They’re walking back to his place, and the tension between them is palpable. All of Will’s energy is going towards not jumping the boy right then and there on the street in bright daylight, and having him against the rough brick wall of one of the alleys. 

When their eyes meet, Will can tell Tom is feeling quite similarly, and it’s almost too tempting, but this beautiful boy deserves better. He deserves to be worshipped for hours on end in an actual bed, and that is what he plans to do, so he restrains himself.

He can hardly believe this is really happening. That he gets to be here, like this, with this man. It’s almost surreal, like an out-of-body experience, but then Tom’s hand brushes his, his touch grounding him, and he’s brought back to the here and now. 

He wraps his hand around Tom’s, easily engulfing it- and isn’t that just something- and squeezes his fingers. Tom squeezes back, and Will could burst with joy.

They’re still holding hands when they get to Will’s front door, and he fumbles with the key, but he’ll be damned if he lets go of his hand. Tom giggles, and then Will is laughing too, and before he knows it Tom is kissing him, using his free hand to pull him down by the collar. The soft heat of Tom’s plump lips on his is an overwhelming sensation, setting all his nerve endings on fire at once, as his heart brims with pure joy.

He thanks God he already managed to unlock the door, because if he had to stop kissing Tom now he feels like he would have died. As it is, he shoves open the door and they stumble inside. He has just enough presence of mind to push the door closed behind him before he wraps his arm around Tom’s waist, slides a hand into his hair, and kisses him like his life depends on it. 

Tom runs his tongue along his bottom lip and Will eagerly opens his mouth. Slipping his tongue into his mouth, Tom gently licks at his tongue, and it’s unbelievably intimate, Will feels like he might catch on fire. He squeezes his waist and tugs at the curls at the nape of his neck. Tom’s jaw drops, a moan falling from him that reverberates throughout Will’s entire body.

“Fuck… picked up on that then, did you?” Tom grins.

Will smiles and only cards his fingers through his curls in response. He notes the hitch in Tom’s breath with some satisfaction. Then he takes Tom’s hand once again, and pulls him towards the bedroom.

They get there in one piece, after a few close calls on the stairs. It’s Tom who pushes Will into the wall first. He kisses him sloppily, and slides a thigh between Will’s, and Will chokes back an involuntary moan. He is already getting hard, but so is Tom, and the feel of his erection pressed against his leg triggers something in his brain; a desperate need. 

He places his hands on Tom’s hips and spins them until their positions are flipped, and it is Tom who is pressed up against the wall. He strokes his cheekbone with his thumb, and a hot blush starts to form underneath it. He can hardly believe this is real, that he really gets to have this, but the proof is right here underneath his hands, and he is full; full of desire, full of love.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. Tom giggles in delight.

He leans up to capture his lips sweetly. The kiss soon becomes heated again, as Will grinds his hips against Tom’s. Within seconds Tom is gasping into his mouth for breath, and Will moves on to his neck. He licks a slow stripe along the tendon. When he’s found his pulse point he sucks a bruise into the skin, biting not quite hard enough for the skin to break. Tom yelps, a sound which then cuts off into a breathy moan.

The mark is red and angry, and Will kisses the skin in apology, but Tom seems to be quite far from complaining. He brings his hands to the back of Will’s shoulders, digging in his nails, trying to pull him even closer. The knowledge that the boy will be walking around with the mark for days sparks flames in Will’s gut.

He leans back and starts undoing the buttons of Tom’s blouse. “Is this okay?”

“Fuck, yes,”

Will continues, pressing a kiss to each part of skin the next open button reveals. By the time he gets to the lowest button he’s on his knees, and he can’t resist making use of the situation. He looks up at Tom, who is already looking down at him like he hung the moon, so he takes it as an okay, and he buries his nose into his clothed crotch, inhaling deeply. 

He turns his head and mouths at the bulge straining in his trousers as Tom’s hands fall to his head, carding his fingers through his hair, before getting back onto his feet.

“Fucking tease,” Tom grunts. 

Will chuckles, and slips the blouse off of Tom’s shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. Then Tom gestures to his jumper, tugging lightly at the bottom hem. “Alright, you too.” 

Will complies and pulls off his jumper, now only wearing jeans and a white undershirt.

Tom touches his bare shoulder reverently, cupping the curve of it in his palm. He traces an imaginary line along his biceps, and Will shivers in response. Tom continues, following one of the veins in his arms, like he’s mapping its path in his mind.

“You and your stupid gorgeous body, and fuckin’... marble veins,” Tom mutters. “Couldn’t tear my eyes away from you that day in art class.”

Heat rushes to Will’s cheeks, and he tries to distract him by leaning in for another kiss, but Tom isn’t having it. He gives him a quick peck, and then he grabs Will’s hand and presses a kiss against his knuckles.

He glances up at Will through his eyelashes, and Will is sure he’s about as red as a tomato, but that doesn’t seem to deter the boy in the slightest. He turns the hand and presses his soft lips to the ball of his palm. Then he kisses a slow line up his index finger. When he reaches the top he looks Will straight into his eyes and takes the tip between his lips.

Will almost chokes. Before he can think it through, he pushes his finger into the wet heat of his mouth, and Tom takes it eagerly, pressing his tongue against the finger and sucking gently.

“Fucking sinful you are, baby,” Will whispers.

Tom moans softly around his finger at that, and Will feels the vibrations swoop through all of his body. All of a sudden it’s all very much not nearly enough, and he withdraws his hand.

“Bed. Now.” He growls, and Tom scrambles to comply. He sits down on the bed, and then Will is on top of him. He straddles the boy, pushing him back until he’s lying down atop the soft pillows at the headboard.

Will kisses a line along his collarbone, and works his way down to a nipple. He licks at it, flicking it with his tongue, and it has Tom squirming to get some friction against his straining erection.

“Will… fuck. Touch me, please.”

Will places one final kiss on his abdomen, and decides to be a bit of a bastard.

“Touch you where, baby? Tell me.”

Tom groans, fumbling with the sheets underneath him for grip. “Please ahh, god, please touch my cock.”

“Mmm, such a good boy for me.”

“Fuck off,” Tom mutters, hiding his face in his hands, but his cock twitches in response.

Will makes quick work of his jeans and kisses the top of one of his thighs.

“This okay?”

“Yeah, fuck, get on with it you considerate bastard.”

Will laughs, and takes off his boxers. Then without further hesitation, he wraps his lips around the head of his cock. Tom gasps as Will revels in the taste of him. Hungry for more, he tries to take him all the way. Tears spring to his eyes as he tries to keep from gagging, but the way Tom moans above him, fisting his hands in the sheets, makes it all worth it.

He bobs his head up and down the shaft a couple of times, and delights in the taste and the heavy weight of his lover’s cock in his throat. He moans gently when Tom’s hand finds its way to his hair. In response, Tom bucks his hips and Will almost gags.

He pulls off and grips Tom’s hips, pinning him to the mattress. Tom lets out a breathy whine at the cool air that hits his cock. Will looks down at him. 

“Now be a good boy and keep still for me, yeah?”

Tom nods frantically. Will takes a second to catch his breath, but then he continues, starting his pace back up again, keeping Tom pinned to the mattress even as he can feel him push up against his grip. It’s a messy ordeal, spit dripping from his chin, but Tom seems to like it. 

It only takes a few minutes before Tom is moaning loudly, any attempts at restraint out of the window. The noise goes straight to Will’s own arousal and for a moment he’s scared he’ll come in his damn jeans again. Tom pulls at his hair, his body going tense. 

“Fuck, ahh fuck Will, I’m gonna come!”

Will looks up at him through his eyelashes, and then Tom is coming hard, spilling deep into Will’s throat. Will works him through it, and without breaking eye contact he swallows every last drop of his seed. Tom lets out a weak whimper, eyes closed in ecstasy, his mouth slack.

“Beautiful,” Will whispers, his voice hoarse.

He goes to kiss him chastely, a gentle peck, but Tom has other plans. He pulls him back down by his shirt into a sloppy slide of tongues, savouring the taste of Will, his own come on his tongue. 

“Take this damn shirt off, right now.” Tom grunts.

Will chuckles and complies, shrugging off the shirt and his jeans too, for good measure. Tom runs his hand over the tight muscles of his abdomen.

“Shouldn’t be allowed to be this fuckin’ perfect,” Tom mutters.

Will giggles. “I’ll show you who’s perfect, you idiot.”

Tom sighs contentedly. “Alright then, get on with it.”

Will smiles and reaches up to the nightstand, grabbing a jar of lube and a condom from it, setting it down on the bed. Then he moves to sit between Tom’s legs once again. He presses a kiss to his knee, and slowly makes his way to the hot inside of his thigh, where he gently bites the skin. Tom whimpers, and once again blood starts filling his cock.

“I’ve thought about this, you know,” Will mumbles into the softness of his thigh. “Been thinking about it for weeks, having you be so good for me, so beautifully responsive.”

Tom hums. “I’d bloody hope so.”

Will snorts. “Alright you little brat, you’re still much too coherent.”

And with that, he licks a hot stripe over his hole.

“FUCK,” Tom gasps.

“That’s better,” smirks Will.

He starts to massage the tight muscle with his tongue until it’s slick with spit and loose enough to stick his tongue inside with ease. He pushes in, and eats him out with slow, deep licks. 

Soon Tom’s moans grow high-pitched as he tries to fuck himself back onto Will’s tongue. Will hums, sending vibrations through Tom’s body, and the boy shudders.

“Will, please… I want you inside of me, please.”

Will pulls away with a final kiss to his hole that has Tom blushing a crimson red.

“Alright baby.”

Will grabs the lube, unscrews the lid and coats his index and middle fingers in it. He presses his fingers against his entrance, pressing lightly until Tom whines and pushes back against his fingers. He chuckles, and finally pushes both fingers into Tom’s hole at once. 

Tom takes it easily, and sighs in satisfaction when they’re all the way in. Then, Will curls his fingers, brushing his prostate. He fingers him gently, brushing that spot with every stroke.

“Will, fuck, just fuck me please, I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can baby, but just be patient for me now, okay?”

He adds a third finger and starts fucking him with his fingers at a faster pace. With his free hand he reaches for Tom’s thigh, and lightly scratches down the sensitive skin. Tom jolts.

“Ahh FUCK, yeah, keep doing that please, _fuck_.”

Will repeats the action, thrusting his fingers into his hole over and over again, while scratching up and down his thigh with the other hand, just a hint of nails. Tom’s thigh quivers, as Tom fists his hands into the sheets once again.

“Fuck Will, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-”

And just with that, he’s coming all over himself, completely untouched. Will fingers him through it until he whimpers with overstimulation.

Tom looks like a mess, covered in his own come, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead, his cock spent, eyes heavy with exhaustion. He looks beautiful, and Will tells him so over and over again.

“Will, come on, inside me, please,” he begs.

Will blinks. “Are you sure? I’m okay with ju-”

Tom cuts him off. “Fuck me please, right fucking now.”

“Okay baby, okay,” Will soothes.

He’d almost forgotten about his own arousal, but now, with the prospect of being inside of his lover, a dribble of precome leaks from his cock. He opens the condom and rolls it onto his erection, and then he coats it in lube.

“Okay, are you ready baby?”

Tom nods, too exhausted to form intelligible words, but Will needs to make sure.

“Use your words for me love, just one more time.”

“Y-yeah, I’m ready,” Tom whispers.

Will kisses his abdomen ever so gently in thanks. Then he lines up his cock with Tom’s entrance and pushes in. Tom’s hole is loose and relaxed and he meets no resistance, slowly sliding in all the way to the base of his shaft in one go. Tom groans with oversensitivity and clenches down a little, coaxing a soft moan out of Will. Will rubs his abdomen, whispering words of encouragement, and soon Tom is comfortable again.

Will starts a slow, gentle pace. His muscles are straining with the effort to restrain himself, but he’d shoot himself in the foot before hurting Tom, so he grits his teeth and keeps his thrusts almost agonisingly slow.

“You won’t break me, love,” Tom says, looking up at Will with a dazed smile. “C’mon, give it to me properly.”

That’s too much for even Will’s iron determination. A moan spills from him, and he starts fucking into him in earnest. Tom feels so slick and warm, and he’s so beautiful, the last of his control slips away and his pace grows punishing, fucking him hard and deep.

“So fucking good for me Tom, you feel so good,” Will pants.

He thrusts again, this time getting the angle just right, and a loud moan is ripped from Tom.

“Fuck, yes baby, that’s it, keep going,” Tom sighs, voice shaking. 

Will literally growls, a feral rumble from deep within his chest, and continues thrusting hard at that angle, pounding into him mercilessly. Tom is too out of it to get fully hard again, but somehow arousal is still building in his gut, thin moans spilling from him on every thrust. 

He runs a hand over Will’s biceps, that are flexing hard with his movements, and digs his nails into the muscle. A shocked gasp is torn from Will that devolves into incoherent babbling as he keeps fucking him steadily. “Oh God I’m gonna- fuck Tom I’m-”

Then, cutting himself off with a shout, Will comes deep inside of him, filling him up for what feels like forever, and then Tom is coming with him with a guttural moan, his eyes rolling back into his head with pleasure as a weak spurt of come splatters onto his stomach.

Will collapses on top of him. He rests there for an extended moment, nuzzling gently at the soft skin below Tom’s jaw, listening to his speedy heartbeat start to slow down. Soon, he starts to worry about Tom’s comfort though, and he slips out of him. A sleepy, involuntary whine comes from the boy underneath him. Will smiles and leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth once more before he gets up on wobbly legs.

He quickly takes off and discards the condom. Then, he steps into the en-suite bathroom, grabs a washcloth and waits impatiently for the rickety old tap to heat up. Once he has the washcloth damp and lukewarm, he hurries back to Tom.

Tom is clearly already half asleep. The only sign of consciousness is the soft smile that overtakes his face when he feels Will clean his stomach and thighs with gentle, tender motions. Will throws the cloth in the general direction of the sink, longing too much to have Tom in his arms to care about neatness now.

He climbs back into bed, careful not to disturb Tom too much. He places a hand on his abdomen, rubbing it in light circles. Tom hums.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Will murmurs softly.

Tom cracks open an eye and turns to look at him, that soft, content smile still firmly in place. He curls into Will’s side, and Will wraps his arms around him.

“No love, you were so good to me, it was so good,” Tom sighs.

Will smiles and presses a kiss into the boy’s hair. Within seconds, he can hear his breathing even out; can even feel it in the weight on top of him. It’s the most fulfilling, grounding sensation, and Will’s brain can barely catch up with the enormity of what he’s feeling. After weeks of emptiness, loneliness, guilt and longing, here he is, feeling complete.

In an hour or two, he’ll wake Tom with a gentle kiss, and he’ll make him pancakes for lunch, and they will have a future ahead of them. For now, all they need is this, a moment of rest in each other’s arms. 

Will is so ecstatically happy that he half expects to lay wide awake with the desire to scream his love from the rooftops, with the overwhelming knowledge that he doesn’t need dreams to be with Tom, he can have that right here, right now. But here, in this warm, cosy space, legs intertwined with Tom’s, he ends up falling into a deep and dreamless sleep within minutes, content, at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> please don't sue me Campina xx
> 
> also my french grammar is horrific so sorry if it's wrong but hopefully, Lauri says something like "don't listen to him, my beautiful! You're my tiny pretty baby!" to The Baby.
> 
> special thanks go out to my little band of proofreaders; spencer, jamie, alex, alice, maddie, and most of all meg, who helped me improve the quality of this immensely. i adore you all. _mwah_.
> 
> thank you so much for reading!


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